


i wanna breathe you, i wanna feel you near

by sleeponrooftops



Category: Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Language, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-06
Updated: 2011-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor just wanted to hold hands.  Tony got sick of them avoiding the inevitable.  So Peter took charge.  It only took a little ping pong induced broken noses, carefully structured sleds, and a quiet night with hot chocolate and popcorn that didn’t burn down the mansion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna breathe you, i wanna feel you near

**Author's Note:**

> This actually sprouted from a scene that I have in my WIP Steve/Tony that is sure to be another stupidly long oneshot where Peter beats Thor at air hockey and they continue to screw with each other as the day progresses and they play even more ridiculous games, so yeah. That’s that. Essentially, this opening scene will crop up again in the Steve/Tony, officially titled _i got you_ , woot.

“C’mon, Goldilocks, don’t they have some Asgardian game similar to this in… Asgard?” Peter finishes lamely, firing the black puck across the board again and screeching when he scores.  He throws his arms up in victory while Thor searches for the puck even though Peter’s shown him a dozen different times where it goes.  When he finishes with his dance, he sighs and aims his wrist at the opposing goal slot, and Thor lets out a soft _oh_ when Peter pulls the puck out.

 

“To be fair, webhead,” Thor pauses to smirk, and Peter actually sends him a fond smile, “This game is puny in comparison to our godly adventures.”

 

“ _Puny_?” Peter cries in mock hurt, and then Thor scores.

 

Peter stares down at the goal slot in shock, blinking.  Thor looks at his face, recognizes his victory, and promptly flips the table over.  “I have bested you at your puny mortal man game!” he roars, pounding his chest before going over to thump Peter on the back, who staggers forward with an _oof_.

 

“Well, technically—”

 

“Peter, he won,” Tony says from the couch, leveling him with a glare.

 

“But we hadn’t—”

 

“Peter.”

 

“Oh, fine.  Thor, have you ever played ping pong?  It involves tables, and I know how you love flipping things when you are victorious.”

 

“Dearest Peter,” Thor says, taking Peter by the shoulders with one huge arm, and Peter staggers into him, grunting, “Show me this mortal man game.”

 

“Sure thing, big guy.”  Tony watches them in amusement, and, sure enough, five minutes in, Peter is on the floor, holding both hands over his nose.  “You fucking broke my nose!” he shrieks as Thor flaps his hands around uselessly and apologizes frequently.

 

“I got it, Thor,” Tony sighs, going over to force Peter off the ground, “C’mon, Parker, let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

Peter is sitting in the living room when Thor finds him.  He steels himself and heads in, tentatively sitting on the opposite end of the couch.  “Ever seen _Robin Hood: Men in Tights_?” Peter asks, motioning toward the television.

 

Thor shrugs, “Clint has yet to introduce me to this, though has referred to its greatness while we watched the thing with the gold cup.”

 

“Monty Python,” Peter confirms, nodding, “Hey, Goldilocks, you’re not freaking out about earlier, are you?”

 

“Well, dear friend,” Thor admits, hanging his head, “I fear I was rather brutal with your mortal man game.  I apologize greatly from the—”

 

“Thor,” Peter stills him, holding up a hand, “Look, Tony fixed me up,” he waves at his nose, “I’m fine.  You just get enthusiastic, I know.  C’mon, how about we work on the Wii some more?  I bet you can figure out bowling.”

 

Turns out Thor being terrified of hurting Peter only turns out to worsen things.  Peter ducks as the controller goes flying, and Thor groans.  Peter smirks at him from the ground, and Thor can’t help but smile back.

 

“I bet you still can’t catch me,” Peter offers, and Thor snorts.

 

“Puny mortal, of _course_ I can catch you.”

 

“Only once have you managed to, Goldilocks, and that’s because Clint’s pants were on the floor.”

 

“I challenge thee, then!”  And, with that, the pair head off to the sparring room downstairs.

 

\--

 

“Hawkeye, on your left,” Cap says over the com, “Iron Man, _please_ stop.”

 

“Sure thing, love.”

 

“Thor, have you seen Hulk?”

 

“OH MY GOD, HE’S GOING TO KILL ME!” Spiderman screams, entirely outside of the com, and the Avengers watch as he races past, webs keeping him ahead of Hulk, but not quite far enough.

 

Thor doesn’t know what it is, but something tugs in his chest, and he swings his hammer to take out one of the Skrulls before chasing after Hulk and Peter, determination pushing him faster and faster.  His feet leave the ground without him even noticing, and he careens into Hulk, Mjölnir pushing him down into the ground.

 

“LOKI!” he roars, eyes searching for Peter.  “LOKI, LET HIM GO.  Peter,” he finishes, bolting away from Hulk, who’s still trapped underneath Mjölnir.  Peter pushes himself out of the rubble of one of Hulk’s smashes, groaning and staggering.  “Peter,” Thor says again when he reaches him, helping him up, “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, man, thanks.  Thor,” he realizes when he looks up, “Hey.”

 

“Webhead,” he murmurs, and Peter smirks beneath the mask.

 

“Thanks, big guy.  Better get back.”

 

He claps a hand to Thor’s armored arm before taking to the skies again, and Thor watches him with a fond smile.  “Hulk is sorry!” Hulk cries, bringing him from his reverie, and Thor looks back over at him, sighing.

 

“Bruce is back,” he says into the com.

 

“Still Hulk?” Iron Man asks dryly.

 

“Obviously,” Cap sighs.

 

Thor smirks.

 

\--

 

Thor looks up when he hears the front door crash open.  He’s currently in the kitchen trying to find his hidden stash of poptarts, but he quickly moves his attention to the stumbling Peter.  “Hey man,” Peter says, flapping a hand and making a beeline for the fridge, “Sorry.  God, this sucks.”

 

He tosses a frozen bag of peas toward the table, his body still angled behind the fridge, and Thor leans away from the cabinets, trying to see him.  Peter finally emerges holding a bottle of water, and Thor tenses.  “What happened?” he asks softly.

 

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Peter mumbles before taking his bag and disappearing from the kitchen.  Thor waits until he can hear the television turn on, and he nods before closing his cabinets and going over to another to pick out a bag of popcorn.  He carefully reads the directions on the back four times, and he double-checks everything that it tells him to do with the microwave before standing with his back bent, staring through the microwave screen as the popcorn cooks.

 

It’s the first time he’s done it right, and he feels a swell of pride when he pulls it out of the microwave and opens it into a large silver bowl.  He leaves it on the table and goes over to another cabinet, looking for something Steve used the other day when Thor had been feeling down.

 

“Uhm, Mister Jarvis sir,” he says tentatively, nervously.

 

Jarvis crackles to life, sounding almost tired, “How may I be of service, Thor?”

 

“Sorry to trouble your sleep, Mister Jarvis sir, but do you happen to know what Steve Rogers made me the other day?”

 

Jarvis pauses a moment before speaking again, “Hot chocolate, Thor.  And I wasn’t asleep.  I am an AI—therefore, I do not sleep.  Well, technically, but—do you know how to make it?” he breaks off, and Thor is startled by how like Tony he sounds.

 

“I am afraid I do not,” Thor admits, frowning.

 

“Quite alright.  I’ll walk you through the steps.”

 

Ten minutes later, Thor carefully carries his popcorn bowl in one hand and two mugs of steaming hot chocolate with marshmallows in the other.  When he arrives in the living room doorway, Peter looks over at him, blinks, and slowly lowers his pea pack.  “What’s this?” he asks unsurely.

 

“Well, my dear friend, you seemed upset about something, and I wished to comfort you.”  Thor offers him a smile, and Peter gives him that fond smile that Thor has grown to appreciate so much.  He feels warm when Peter looks at him like that, and he nods once to himself before going over and placing the things down.

 

“Did you make these?” he asks, taking up one of the mugs.

 

“Mister Jarvis sir helped me, but yes.”

 

“Thor, big guy, you know you can just call him Jarvis, right?”

 

“Well, yes,” Thor says, taking his own mug, “But I feel he deserves an amount of respect with all the work he does.”

 

“Of course he does.  Jarvis, I love you,” Peter says to the air, and Thor is about to comment that Jarvis is busy in the kitchen when Jarvis responds,

 

“Duly noted, Mister Parker.”

 

“He never tells me he loves me.  Tony says that’s because he has an attitude, and he knows I’m not being serious.”  Thor tries a smile, but Peter rolls his eyes.  “It’s alright, buddy, I know you have no idea what I’m talking about.  Pick a letter, we’ll watch a movie.”

 

“W?” Thor offers.

 

“Awesome, _Winnie the Pooh_ it is.  You haven’t seen this one, yet, I don’t think.”

 

“Clint said he refused to show me such childishness.”

 

“But he did a Disney marathon with you?  Loser.”

 

“Clint is actually quite good at most things he does, Peter.”

 

“No, Thor, I meant—never mind, just watch the movie.”

 

Thor relaxes into the couch, the popcorn bowl balanced on his lap, and they sit there in silence, laughing every so often, until Peter suddenly tosses his peas to the coffee table, puts his mug down, pulls his legs underneath him, and reclines his head to Thor’s shoulder.  Thor smiles, and, since he’s long since finished his hot chocolate, he carefully rests an arm around Peter’s shoulders, who hums in appreciation.

 

They spend the rest of the movie that way, and, when it ends and Thor starts to move, he quickly stops when Peter makes a soft noise.  He looks down, smiling when he realizes he’s fast asleep.  He carefully sets the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, extracts himself from Peter, and goes to put everything away before he returns and looks down at the small man a moment before sighing and going to lift him in his arms.  Peter instantly leans against him, yawning and pressing his face into Thor’s chest, who swallows the lump in his throat and bites at his lip to keep his beam from showing.

 

He’s not quite sure what Peter’s doing to his heart.

 

\--

 

“SUCH SUCCESS I HAVE!” Thor bellows, and Clint laughs as he fires the ping pong paddle across the room.  A chuckle attracts both their attention, and they turn to find Peter just padding down the last of the stairs with three mugs of coffee in his hands.

 

“Not breaking anyone’s noses anymore, I see,” Peter comments, handing Clint his mug before turning Thor.

 

“Alas, I have mastered the art of my strength in comparison with this mortal man game,” Thor says, smiling at Peter.

 

“Ah, I see.”  Peter smirks before going over to the couch where he flops onto his back and sighs.  “Play another round, I’ll be over there soon enough,” he says when they don’t continue.  Thor shrugs and goes about challenging Clint to another round.

 

“Actually, big guy, I think I’m gonna head upstairs and see if Natasha wants to spar,” he says, looking over at Peter and then back at Thor.  He nods, trying to make the Norse god understand.  When he just stares at him in confusion, Clint rolls his eyes and walks over to him.  “Go for it.  I think he likes you, too,” he whispers, and Thor’s eyes widen.  Clint just shrugs and heads upstairs.

 

“Gimme a couple minutes, and I’ll— _oh_ ,” Peter breaks off as Thor sits next to him and drops his legs onto his lap, “What’s up?”

 

“The—the ceiling?” Thor asks uncertainly, looking up.  Peter rolls his eyes.

 

“We really need to work on your Midgard lingo.  So, what do you want to do today?  I think we’re free unless Von Doom decides to team up with your brother again.  Did I tell you what I’ve nicknamed them?”

 

“No?”

 

“Loki Von Doom.  Sounds scary, doesn’t it?  Imagine if Loki and Victor had a kid; imagine the shit he’d be.”

 

Thor actually chuckles, and Peter looks over, considering it a victory; people hardly manage to make him laugh about his brothers these days, and it’s nice to see him smile over it.  “He would indeed be the shit,” Thor tries out the phrase, still smiling, and Peter wiggles his feet.

 

“Good job,” he says, and Thor looks over at him.  Peter clears his throat after a moment before pulling himself up, taking away the physical contact between him and Thor.  He sips his coffee in silence, and Thor does the same, reclining into the couch and sighing.  “You know,” Peter says after a full minute of torturous silence, “We could—uhm—we could do something outside today.  Sledding, maybe, or—er—that might be a bad idea.”

 

“Sledding?” Thor repeats, and Peter looks over at him.

 

“I’m sure we could find somewhere uninhabited.  Huh.  Jarvis.”

 

“Mister Parker.”

 

“Patch me over the lab, would you?”

 

“For Tony, sir?”

 

“Please and thank you.”

 

There’s a few moments of silence before Tony’s voice crackles to life in the game room, “Parker, seriously, I told you to stop calling me through Jarvis.”

 

“Just a quick question, darling,” Peter says quickly, “What would hold Thor’s weight to act as a sled?”

 

“Sled,” Tony repeats, and then there’s a heavy sigh, “For fuck’s sake, come over in an hour or so.  I’ll get Jarvis to do a scan for possible threats and anywhere there might not be people today.”

 

“Thanks, you’re a doll.”

 

“Fuck you, Parker.”

 

“Love you, too, darling!” he calls before the static leaves and Peter nods to Thor, returning his gaze to him.  “There we go, Tony will make you a sled, and I’ll show you just how fantastic winter in New York is.”

 

\--

 

“Do other places on Midgard have this snow and activity, as well?” Thor asks as Peter puts the car into park.

 

“Yeah, of course.  You don’t have snow on Asgard?”

 

“Well, no.  I have been to worlds with snow, yes, but not on Asgard.”

 

“Fair enough.  Come on, I’m telling you, this is going to blow your mind.”  Peter shivers against the cold as he heads to the back of the car, and Thor watches him for a moment before going to join him.  They heave their sleds off to the giant hill, Peter locking the car with his keys as they go.

 

Before long, Thor is howling with laughter and red in the face from the chill.  Peter can barely contain his glee, holding the stitches in his sides as he doubles over with laughter.  They’re out there for a few hours before Peter finally can’t feel his fingers anymore, and he stands at the top of the hill, rubbing his jacket-clad arms and teeth chattering.

 

“Goldilocks, I think we gotta head back,” he mumbles, shivering.  Thor swallows a lump in his throat as he looks over at Peter before nodding.  “Hey, you wanna try that driving thing again?” Peter asks when they pack the car again, “C’mon, we’ll take a long way home so that we don’t hit the main streets.”

 

“If you insist.”

 

“Of course I do, come on.”

 

Peter hops in the passenger seat, and it turns out to be a rather harmless journey.  He’s been secretly teaching Thor, secretly because Fury specifically said they were _not_ to, but Thor had seemed so interested, and Tony had promised to turn a blind eye and fix any serious damages to the cars.  They chat on the way back to the mansion, Thor taking a leisurely, easy pace that Peter doesn’t mind.

 

When Thor dares a glance over at him, he’s all limbs everywhere, and Thor clears his throat a little, immediately returning his gaze back to the road, but it’s just so tempting, and he sneaks a peripheral look.  Peter has his feet on the dash, but they’re crossed at the ankles and his knees are bent, so he’s a little _everywhere_ , and then one of his arms his flung up behind him, curled over his shoulder, beside his head, and sort of around the headrest, while the other rests lazily on the center console, his fingers tapping rhythms on the gear shift.

 

When they pull into the garage, Peter starts to disentangle himself, and the moment Thor had been wishing for, _accidentally_ brushing his fingers against Peter when he went to put it in park, disappears when Peter sits up and rubs his hands through his hair, sighing.  “You did good, look at that.  Soon enough, we’ll have you driving the SUV and on intersections.”

 

Thor shrugs, but he gets out anyway.  He means to capture Peter’s attention again, but the smaller man has already disappeared off in the direction of Tony’s lab, and Thor frowns, shoulders sagging.  Why is this so hard?

 

To his great surprise, Tony is pushing Peter out of his lab when he walks by.  “Go fuck with Thor; I don’t want to deal with you avoiding him.  Hey, big guy,” he adds before pulling the door shut again and saying something they can’t hear through the glass.

 

“Uhm,” Peter says, looking anywhere but at Thor, “I just have to— _oh_ ,” he breaks off as Thor throws caution to the wind and reaches forward, grabbing Peter’s arms and pressing his mouth down to Peter’s.  Thor’s heart thuds painfully in his chest, so nervous and so afraid, until Peter wriggles his arms, Thor releases him, and then he digs his fingers into Thor’s shoulders, kissing him back just as enthusiastically.

 

“Okay, really,” Tony breaks them apart, coming over the com in the hallway, “Go upstairs.  Take the elevator.  God, just get away from my lab.  I _really_ don’t want to explain to Steve why I’m abandoning work on _his_ armor to beg for sex, okay?”

 

Peter smirks at this, but he takes Thor’s hand and tugs him away from the lab and down the hall toward the elevator.  Thor beams at their hands, tightening their fingers together and rubbing his thumb over the back of Peter’s hand.  Peter laughs softly at this, and, when the elevator doors shut again, he presses himself to Thor, stealing another hot, hungry kiss.

 

Something changes, then, and Thor shifts, his hands slipping to the small of Peter’s back.  Peter moans into his mouth, his hands going to Thor’s shoulders again.  “God, Thor,” Peter growls, pulling back and panting.

 

The elevator door chimes, and they separate quickly, heading out after one another and down into the hall.  Peter makes a beeline for his room, but Thor catches his wrist halfway there and nods toward his.  “Tony had my bed specially made, like his.  For—Steve—you know.”

 

“Oh, so you’re aware they’re fucking, too?  I thought it was just me.  They never seem to— _oh_.”  Thor seems to be doing that to him a lot, shutting him up.  Peter goes with it, though, sinking into the kiss and the feel of Thor’s hands roaming over his body.  “God, this is impossible,” he grumbles after a moment, pushing against Thor’s chest until he releases him and struggling out of his shirt.  “Come on, get naked.  I am literally going to catch fire if I have to wear these any longer.”

 

Peter hadn’t been expecting _that_.  As he lifts his gaze from his own jeans, his mouth goes dry.  “Oh, wow,” he comments, blinking, before he looks up at Thor’s face.  “Bravo,” he manages, and Thor rolls his eyes.  Wow, even the Norse god knows that was a lame thing to say.

 

When their bodies meet again, Peter groans, trying to lift higher because he’s so much shorter, damn it.  Thor notices and chuckles before angling his body so Peter has to step back.  They stumble toward the bed, kissing wetly, and the Peter’s on his back, panting and looking up as Thor looms over him, hungrily licking his lips.

 

“God, just fuck me,” Peter whines, arching his body upward.  Thor smirks, and Peter watches in amazement as he leans up and snatches something off his nightstand.  “No way, you were so totally planning this,” he accuses, and Thor just rolls his eyes and shuts Peter up with another kiss.

 

He slicks three fingers even as Peter pushes his knees apart, his thighs spread wide, and Thor groans at the sight, leaning down to bite at Peter’s collarbone.  He slides one finger inside, and Peter hisses, face scrunching up before he relaxes into the touch.  He groans when Thor curls a finger and nips along his hipbones with sharp teeth and soft lips.

 

“Peter,” Thor groans when he enters another finger, scissors, and Peter moans, pushing down into Thor’s hand.

 

“God, I can take more, _come on_ ,” he whines, fucking himself on Thor’s hand.

 

Thor responds by shoving a third finger in, and Peter gasps, arching off the bed again.  Thor takes advantage of this, kissing along his stomach and groaning against his skin when Peter whines incomprehensibly and pushes down on Thor’s hand, wordlessly begging.  He pulls his fingers out, slicks his cock, and brings Peter off the bed again in an almost painful bend.

 

“Fucking hell,” Peter gasps, fingers scrambling for purchase.  His fingers dig into Thor’s shoulders again as the Norse god leans down, blonde hair curtaining them.  “God, Thor,” Peter groans, “Faster.”

 

Thor obeys, fucking into him quick and hard, sending shivers through Peter’s body and pulling strangled moans from the smaller man’s throat, ragged and harsh sounding, and it’s so much, Thor can’t help but bury his face in Peter’s neck and let himself open a little, panting out sharp moans and grunts.

 

And then Peter tenses, knees squeezing against Thor’s sides.  He rakes his nails over Thor’s shoulders and comes _hard_ between them, trembling, and it pushes Thor right over the edge, and he bites Peter’s shoulder, gasping and spilling into his ass.

 

They stay like that, pressed together and panting, for a few moments before the afterglow settles in, and Thor eases out of Peter, who groans when he does.  “How’s that for a mortal man game,” Peter mumbles, punching Thor lightly on the shoulder, who just laughs and pulls Peter toward him.

 

“I promise not to flip you in celebration of my victory,” Thor says into his neck before he places a light kiss on Peter’s jaw, “Not yet, at least.”

 

Peter laughs softly before turning in Thor’s arms and curling against him.  “We’ll give that a go in the morning.  For now, go to sleep.  We’re cuddling.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah.  So shut up.”

 

Thor chuckles, but pulls the blankets over them regardless and sighs contently.  He’ll have to remember to hold Peter’s hand sometime.  That’s _definitely_ something he needs to try still.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, I don’t know about this. I feel like it’s rubbish at the end. Don’t forget to leave your thoughts, though!


End file.
